A Christmas Carol with Kaiba
by LoweFantasy
Summary: Seto could have laughed out loud. Who knew Yugi would be the type of person to pretend to be an angel on his rival's windowsill? But then again, it was one o'clock in the morning, and Kaiba was not the kind of person to get tipsy and giggly after staying up too late. "Let me guess, I'm suppose to be Ebeneezer Scrooge?" Dicken's Christmas Carol, in Yugioh canon style.
1. Mr Scrooge

**Totally got the inspiration for this while I was watching the Muppets do the Christmas Carol. I'm totally surprised no one has thought to do this with Seto Kaiba yet, he's the perfect Scrooge! Though, after doing some research, I realized it has been thought of before, but usually with using the yugioh cast in every which way. This is actually going to be canon, can you believe it? I feel so tricky.**

**Anyhoo, to all my old readers, my once a week update isn't going to apply with this one. Since it's a Christmas story and I've already got it planned out, I hope to finish it by Christmas, by the end of this month at most. It's going to be hard, it's going to be tricky, but I hope I can manage it. Sounds like a lot of fun anyways, huh?**

**Tell me what you think! **

A Christmas Carol with Kaiba

by LoweFantasy

Chapter 1: Mr. Scrooge

"Spare me your measly excuses. Either you get me the prototype by tomorrow or you lose your job."

The balding, weak-chinned man before him quivered, as was right for any one in his position to do before the wrath of Seto Kaiba.

"But, sir, tomorrow's Christmas." He sounded weak and, to the irate CEO, somewhat ball-less.

"All the more reason that I should have it done. I don't want to worry about your sorry overdue excuse for a controller for _my_ gaming system to clog up my already busy season. Do you have any idea what Christmas is for companies like ours?"

"Well-"

"It's hell. Every little brat out there wants a video game system and every cheapskate parent is going to be calling in expecting us to expect every little problem their spoiled child comes up with in their new present."

"But, sir, couldn't that just be left to the administration?"

"You'd think, wouldn't you? But that's not all, there's last minute sales to watch, stocks to upkeep, systems to fine tune-"

"What does my prototype have to do with-"

"It's added stress, you nimrod, and don't interrupt me." Seto turned on his heel to step back behind his desk, which he slapped with the palm of his hand, making the other man jump. "Prototype on my desk by ten a.m, Mr. Whitaker, or you're just adding your next paycheck to cleaning up your dismal resume."

The man's balding head gleamed in Kaiba's office light. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

"You're excused."

Mr. Whitaker didn't need any encouragement. He scurried out like a mouse running from a ravenous cat. Seto stared at the closed door for a long moment before pinching the bridge of his nose and plopping back into his office chair with a sigh. The idiots just never stopped coming. You'd think humanity would figure it out after all this time that neutering the especially challenged would only improve life for the rest of them. Hitler was on to something with that whole 'pure race' stuff. If only he hadn't gone all holocaust people might have actually considered what he had to say.

Rubbing his eyes against the growing headache, he moved on to his next assignment for the day. Numbers and request forms passed by his eyes, and he went through them mechanically, trying to ignore the throb in his head. Through the western, glass wall of his office, he barely noticed the sun setting before his secretary came in to excuse herself for the night. He glanced at the time. 5:46.

"It's not quite 8." he said. "Your shift is not yet over."

The secretary didn't even bother to turn around when she said, "It's Christmas Eve, Mr. Kaiba. I have a date with my fiance."

He frowned. "I did not excuse you."

"Then you're going to have to, because I've been planning this for weeks."

"Then you should have informed me."

"I did." she glanced at him over her shoulder. "You declined, sir. Told me you didn't pay me to waste my time playing romance."

"Ah," that sounded like him.

"And if you have any problem with it, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to quit."

Kaiba gritted his teeth, but stopped quickly when he felt the tensed jaw muscles aggravate the throb in his head. He couldn't have that. It had taken him years to find a secretary of her competence, and she knew it. If this wasn't the first time, he would have fired her anyways for using that against him to get what she wanted. He would not be controlled.

But this _was_ the first time.

"Fine." He turned back to his monitor.

"I'll see you on Monday, sir. Merry Christmas."

With that, she walked out, and Seto was left to glare at his numbers. Some time later, when the frost dusted city outside gleamed with lights, he gave up on trying to ignore the now blooming migraine and got up to hunt down some aspirin. When he came back to his desk, a cup of coffee in one hand and an aspirin in the other, he found his eighteen year old brother spinning himself around in his chair. In appearances, Mokuba had transformed over the years from a baby faced child to a nearly perfect dark haired, softer, more hipster version of Seto. On the other hand, besides the deepening crease in between his eyebrows, Seto hadn't changed at all.

"Don't you have some deadline to get to?"

"Finals were last week, Seto, and since you forgot to ask, I aced them."

Seto sighed, more wearily this time. "I'm sorry. Things always get hectic around this season. It's hell."

"So hire someone else to do it." his brother stopped his turning with a designer shoe, his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed in a classic Kaiba glare. "When are you going to listen to me when I say you can't do everything? You're job's eating you alive, and you're letting it."

"It wouldn't be if I weren't surrounded by idiots."

"People aren't as stupid as you think."

"I beg to differ." Seto popped the aspirin and put the coffee to his lips. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"What I do every time I'm here nowadays: convince you to get your workaholic ass back home."

"I don't appreciate your language."

Mokuba snorted. "I'm not ten anymore. I'm also inviting Kristy over for Christmas dinner tomorrow, and I want you to meet her."

Seto didn't even have to think. "No."

"What?"

"No dinner, and no girlfriend."

His little brother bristled. "Why not? It's my house too."

"Because you go through girls like Wheeler goes through life points in a duel with me, not to mention she's more than likely a gold digger who'll pilfer my house for all its worth."

Mokuba growled deep in his throat. "She's for real this time."

"Sure."

"You haven't changed at all."

Seto raised an eyebrow. "Changed from what?"

But Mokuba just shook his head, running a hand through his bangs and slicked back, long hair. "Fine, big brother. Can we still have dinner? It is Christmas, after all."

"Yes. But I have work tomorrow, so it will have to be late."

His jaw dropped. "Work? Gawd, Seto, not even trash collector's work on Christmas."

"And trash collector's also don't have a multi-billion dollar fortune to call their own, do they?"

"Lot of good it's doing you." Mokuba kicked himself up from his chair. Before Seto could stop him, his brother leaned over and snapped his laptop closed. At the look on his big brother's face, Mokuba smirked. "I'm not budging on this one. You're coming home with me right now or I'm sticking your fingers in warm water while you're asleep again."

And since his brother just so happened to live under the same roof as him still and knew where he slept, Seto clenched his jaw tight and poured the rest of his coffee down the sink in the corner of his office. If the boy would just move out already...

Down in the parking lot, Mokuba had already called up the chauffeur and a limo idled in the parking lot. He jabbered about college and his studies with something reminiscent to the hyperactivity he had when he was younger, and Seto listened idly. The chatter wasn't good for his headache. He couldn't very well tell his brother to shut up, though.

Something with a mallet started banging against the back of his eyes. He winced.

"Shut up."

Mokuba blinked at him. "Huh?"

"Shut up. Please. I have a headache."

"Oh, sorry." And even though he was suppose to be a legal adult now, full grown man and all that stuff, Seto didn't miss the hurt in his eyes.

Then the mallet started hitting harder and he found it hard to care. Sure, he loved his brother, but gah, the pain. And he still had things he needed to finish before he could turn in for the night. Damn this holiday season. Damn those greedy bastards that made his life a pain so they could satisfy their stupid kids, their stupid gaming addictions—which he didn't mind, he did make a living off of it after all. Just not all at once, all on a single day! Who made up this stupid holiday anyways? Certainly not Jesus. Seto had read the Bible, and not once did that man say to spend superfluous amounts of money getting people junk they didn't need.

And no, he didn't feel like really answering that question. He just wanted someone to beat over the head with an actual mallet so they could feel the pain their accursed holiday was now giving him.

He didn't realize they had reached home until Mokuba was opening up the door from the garage and dropping his backpack unceremoniously on the mudroom counter. Groaning at the pain making his eyes water, Seto plopped down on a bench and went to tearing off his shoes.

"I'll get you some aspirin." said Mokuba.

Before Seto could tell him he had already taken some, and that it just had yet to kick in, Mokuba was out and Seto found himself alone in the polished pine lined mudroom. He turned back to reach his other shoe. Then he stood, took off his trench coat, and turned to a peg on the wall. The maids could come back and take care of it for him.

Wait. Something wasn't right with that coat hanger. Where before was a dark bronze peg, there was now a sculpted face of a severe man with thick eyebrows and a sharp mustache. His blood ran cold. What sick bastard had broke into his house and replaced one of his coat hangers with a miniature death mask of his dead step father? Did they suppose to scare him? Unnerve him?

But even as Seto made to reach for his cell phone to call security, the eyes of the bronze Gozaburo face moved into a snarl. And then it unmistakably, impossibly, spoke.

"Seto."

That voice opened doors in Seto's soul he had had closed for more than a decade, and their opening froze him in place like they had when he was a child. His heart sped to a raucous pound and cold sweat beaded out over his skin.

"Seto?"

He jumped. Mokuba had his head poked into the mudroom, frowning.

"You okay? You look a little freaked out."

Blinking hard, Seto looked back to the peg to find nothing by an ordinary coat hanger. He inwardly cursed. Damn migraine was making him hallucinate now! That's all he needed. Maybe it had been a good thing that Mokuba forced him to come home.

"I'm fine. Just got a little light headed for a minute."

"That headache must be bad. Do you want me to call the doctor?"

"I'll be fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Mokuba."

At that tone, Mokuba dropped the subject like fire and made like snow on a summer's day.

After a few more doses of pain killer, his headache finally started to dull enough for him to snap open his laptop (ignoring the glares of his brother), and finish a few more calculations concerning some reports of the market between different consoles and gameplay. By the time he looked up again, Mokuba had already head to bed and he was left alone to his living room, since, for once, he hadn't bothered to hole himself in his office. He figured it had been a strategic move on his part to keep his brother from nagging him.

Yawning, he head up to get ready for bed. He felt exhausted, which wasn't new. It was part of his state of being that he never really paid much attention to. The toothpaste was his favorite cinnamon mint, the covers had already been turned down for him on his bed, and his silky pajamas made a sort of light show of static when he slipped in between the sheets. But just as he reached up to turn off the light on his bedside table, movement in the corner of his eye made him stop. It hadn't been much more than a shadow, but he turned to check anyways.

His stomach jumped into his lungs.

There, in a corner, stood a figure, hidden by the shadows of his dimly lit room. The shape of the man's shoulder's and his height was frighteningly familiar.

"Who are you?" Seto threw back the covers. "To hell with that, get out of my house!"

"Your house? Presumptuous and spoiled, as usual."

He couldn't breathe. His breath had frozen in his lungs. He tried to catch his horror before it could show, but he could already feel his face contorting and his mouth opening to scream. The black figure puffed out a single, dry chuckle.

"What kind of look is that for your beloved father?"

And with the sound of chains tinkling behind him, Gozaburo Kaiba stepped out from his shadows and into the light of Seto's small bedside lamp.


	2. The Chains of Gozaburo

Chapter 2: The Chains of Gozaburo

Seto felt the blood drain so fast from his head, he thought he just might pass out. But this was ridiculous.

"You're dead." he said, as coldly and bored sounding as he could. "I saw your body, I was there when they put you in the grave."

"And you would know, you killed me." said his step father with a self-satisfied sneer.

"I did not kill you, you killed yourself jumping out of the window like an idiot just because you lost."

"And looky hear, Seto Kaiba is talking to the ghost of his dead father. Won't that make your enemies happy to hear?"

This snapped him awake and Seto once more reached for his cell phone. He speed-dialed his security, but just as his phone dialed, it died. When Seto looked up Gozaburo had moved to his bedside, and Seto got his first glimpse of the heavy chains manacled to his step-father's wrists and ankles. All of him, including his chains, looked as though it could have been powdered with chalk-like invisibility dust, and Seto found it oddly hard to focus on the man's face.

First the coat hanger, than this sad excuse for an apparition imitation, and now they somehow killed his phone?

"Joke's over, I admit you freaked me out for a minute there. Not many can say they have caught me off guard, so if you get out now I won't sue you for everything you're worth."

"Boy, you're a moron."

Seto burst into instant, silent fuming. "You are not Gozaburo, and I am no boy!"

The man smirked, a horrible, cruel, twisted half-moon arc that made the hairs on the back of Seto's arms bristle. How could anyone pull off that smile so perfectly? It must be a recording, though how had they managed to get one of him and then use it to project this hologram? For it had to be a hologram or like unto it. Seto could still see his bedroom walls through him.

"Fine, don't believe that I am here. I don't care. I'm only here for myself. See these chains, boy?" Gozaburo lifted up his arm with a chink of chainlinks. For the first time Seto's full attention was drawn to the ghostly chains that trailed from his step-father's wrists and ankles and back into the shadows in the corner. Once he knew he had his attention, he peeled off the suit jacket he had always wore in life to show the drapes of chains running down his chest and looping around his waist.

Seto gave his best, uncaring grunt. "Look heavy."

"Hell, if only you knew." Those dark eyes looked up past severe eyebrows. "This is what I've earned in my life: prison, torture, slavery. You don't know the definition of irony until you're a man who was once over all dies and becomes a slave to the weakest of souls." A hand wrapped around one of the chains as he spoke and gave it an angry tug. The eyes stayed riveted on him. "My only comfort now is knowing that you too will be in chains when this life ends."

Seto surprised both himself and the apparition when he tipped his head back and laughed. "Oh, don't tell me. I'm going to be chained down in hell for all the naughty, greedy things I've done?"

Gozaburo smirked. "Has a nice ring to it. But this is but the state of our souls, and I can't wait to see you being weighed down by all that you're greed and hard work has brought about on you. Makes me laugh to think I was promised two less chains just to come tell my ungrateful brat of a child his fate. The spirit who came to me seemed to think your sorry hide could be saved. Can't think why'd anyone would care."

"Good question. Now, if you don't mind, I got work tomorrow and I'd like some sleep." And just to prove to both himself and the stupid hologram how much he didn't care, Seto switched off his lamp and slipped back into bed. He could hear a sarcastic snort from the darkness.

"I was also told to warn you about some visitors, but I'd rather not. Enjoy your evening, bastard brat."

And with a last clink of chains the room fell silent, and Seto finally felt alone. Even though he closed his eyes, though, sleep didn't come on him and he found his mind buzzing aimlessly for hours. The whoosh of the air running through the vents when the heater turned back on almost startled him, but he welcomed the white noise it provided. A maid's short heels tapped lightly past his door sometime later.

At one point he gave up on sleep and turned on to his other side to face his window, where a sliver of moonlight made it through his curtain and onto the floor. He had wanted to wait until morning to scour his bedroom for projectors, but wondered if it would be better to get up now and rat them out.

It was then he noticed something strange about the line of moonlight on the floor. It seemed to be growing, maybe even flickering a bit, as though heatwaves were passing by it.

Next to him on his stand, his digital alarm clock's green numbers displayed one a.m. sharp.

He heard a slight breeze, unrelated to the heating. He could even feel a rush of cold brush past his face. When the curtains began to rustle of their own accord, Seto shot up, alarm making his hackles raise.

"Who's there?"

As though to answer his question, the curtains pulled apart. Standing in the open window, back lighted by moonlight so bright he couldn't see the sky beyond him, was a super colored, short figure with familiar stare shaped hair. He wore billowing white robes that almost blended in with the light.

"Hey, Kaiba! I hope I made it here on time."

Seto's hands, which had flown up to protect his face from the blinding light, fell to his side. "Muto, what are you doing in my bedroom window? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

The light didn't dim, and Seto's eyes were watering, but he could make out his rival's disapproving frown. It didn't help his childish looks at all and came off as a pout. "Didn't he tell you I was coming?"

"Who? The hologram some fool sneaked into my room?"

Yugi looked to the ceiling, expression both amused and exasperated. "And, of course, you think it's a hologram. I can't believe he thought this would work."

Seto's eyes narrowed. "He? Who's behind this? What's going on-and turn off that damn light already!"

"Kaiba," Yugi held at his arms, looking more amused than annoyed now. "I'm standing in the place of the ghost of Christmas Past, the first of three visitors you will be seeing tonight. And I know I'm wasting my breath when I say this, but Gozaburo was no hologram, and neither am I."


	3. Yugi's Christmas Past

**I wrote all this in one sitting, and since I'm not even suppose to be writing this because I have a deadline on the 20th, please forgive my little mistakes. I didn't have the time to edit (I shouldn't even be writing, but it's just so fun!). And it's little Yugi who is the ghost of Christmas past. If that's not clear enough, let me know. I tried to keep him in character, and also because the ghost of Christmas past is always referred to as a little child. **

**Let me know what you think!**

Chapter 3: Yugi's Christmas Past

His bedroom had turned into some freak surreal dream, with his bed curtains fluttering about on the cool breeze and Yugi before him in a shaft of light, his tiny, bare feet on his windowsill. The white light almost made him forget that it was one in the morning.

Almost.

"Ghost of Christmas Past." he said.

"Yep!" said Yugi.

Seto would have smiled, he would have laughed—this was all really, really funny. Who knew Yugi would be the type of person to pretend to be an angel in his rival's windowsill? But then again, it was one o'clock in the morning, and Kaiba was not the kind of person that got tipsy and giggling after staying up too late.

Instead, he slapped a hand to his face, both to block out the painful white light and to show his utter exasperation.

"Let me guess, and I'm suppose to be Ebeneezer Scrooge."

"No, you're Seto Kaiba. You're exactly who I came for! Now, come on, get up, we don't have much time."

Seto lifted his legs back onto his bed. "Good night, Yugi." He laid down on his side, facing away from the window. "Close the window on your way out."

"Kaiba!"

"And you better be paying for the electricity you must be burning, because if I find out you've plugged your stupid spotlight into my house-"

Yugi interrupted him with a loud noise of annoyance, which was the closest to a manly grunt that the tiny boy would ever get. Sometimes Seto couldn't believe that a seventeen year old kid who looked like he was as old as Mokuba had showed him up and taken his title. But he was never one to judge on appearance. I mean, look at him. He had taken over his step-father's company at thirteen. Plenty had misjudged him—to their regret.

A small hand clamped around Seto's wrist and, with surprising strength, pulled him back over. What shocked Seto more, though, wasn't the fact that Yugi had the audacity and ability to yank him over like that, but that the bright light seemed to follow Yugi and now filled up the canopy of his four poster bed. The light had left the window. If Seto didn't know better, he'd say the light came from Yugi himself.

The smaller boy's large purple eyes were narrowed in determination.

"Kaiba, you're coming with me, whether you want to or not. I will not let you damn your soul just because you don't believe I'm not a hologram."

"Who said I thought you were a hologram?" said Kaiba faintly, before shaking himself and trying to yank his wrist out of Yugi's grip. He couldn't. The kid had a hand of steel. "What the hell, Muto, this isn't Dickens freaking _Christmas Carol_, this is real life!"

But Yugi had pulled him out of bed. Seto scrambled to get his feet beneath him before his face mashed into the floor. The King of Games had his eyes to the window. Even when he dug his heels into the floor, Seto still found himself yanked and dragged towards the outside.

"You're not going to seriously pull me out the window." he said. "Come on, Muto! Even you aren't that crazy!"

"I've been endowed with the powers of the Ghost of Christmas Past tonight. You're going to have to trust me."

"This isn't a matter of trust, it's of sanity!" The window was coming closer. Yugi had a foot up on the windowsill. "Damn it, let go!"

"Trust me, Kaiba!"

Then Yugi was leaping over the edge, and Seto along with him. Seto would have liked to say that he didn't scream like a girl when his legs were yanked over the sill and he found himself in midair—and he didn't. It was a very dramatic, Hollywood-movie type scream, manly to the core. He kept his eyes wide open, watching the earth, waiting for it to rush up and beat the life out of him.

But it didn't. Instead, it sunk down and down. The icy cool air rushing past him didn't get past his skin, and Yugi's small hand radiated warmth all the way down his arm. He looked back up at his rival, eyes focused to the heaven's, and realized that, yes, the light did radiate from him. Not to mention he hadn't seen any spotlight outside his window.

His mansion shrunk behind him at an alarming rate. When the lights of the city glimmered beneath him on sticks of skyscrapers and lines of streets, he finally trusted himself to speak (and no, he hadn't been about to throw up).

"We're flying."

"Yep." said Yugi, without a hint of sarcasm.

"Muto, we're flying."

"Yeah, I know."

"You're glowing."

"Mmhmm."

"Glowing like a freak of nature firefly, or some mutant radioactive accident."

"Uh," and at last Yugi looked back at him over his shoulder, his white robe billowing about him and brushing against Seto's face and arm. "Are you okay?"

"After the whole sucked into ancient Egypt hallucination we all had together, I'm finding this rather tame."

"Really?"

Seto could feel his stomach churning again. He was going to be in therapy for this for months.

Yugi watched him, blinking. "You don't look okay."

"Just shut up and fly. We're going to visit all the charming Christmas's of the past, aren't we?"

Yugi beamed widely. "Wow, Seto, you really were paying attention!"

"Well, since we're doing our own little Dickens rerun..."

His rival gave a clear, chime like laugh and came to a stop. The light that radiated from around him seemed to grow, if possible, brighter, and Seto put an arm to his face. He wanted to cuss at him, and then cuss at Dickens for not mentioning that the freaking dick of freaking Christmas Past had originally blinded Scrooge.

Then he felt his insides swooping up to his ribcage. His eyes snapped open. They were falling.

Yugi was now below him, hand still tight around his wrists and his glow dimmed in the daylight. Their feet were both aimed for the earth below, which was lit with bright sunlight and frosted with snow. An orange bricked, 70's style building watched with dark windows as they plummeted down.

"Muto!" he shouted.

At the last minute they slowed to a graceful stop. Seto's knees buckled of their own accord when his feet touched the ground. They were bare, and the snow was _cold. _

Yugi chuckled at his cursing. "I'm sorry. I guess Scrooge had slippers, didn't he?"

And suddenly Seto's grey, flat soled slippers appeared on his feet, warm as though they had been sitting by the fire.

"Uh, thanks."

"No problem. So," Yugi gestured before them with a swish of white sleeve. "This place look familiar?"

"Of course it does," said Seto, "it's the orphanage Mokuba and I lived in before we were adopted."

"Ah, good! I was worried I'd miss, since I've never actually seen this place myself."

Seto wanted to ask about the details to whatever...magic, technology, rules, whatever that Yugi was working by to make all this happen, but a flash of dark distracted him and he looked up to see a tiny, black haired Mokuba pushing through the newly fallen snow, his naked hands tucked deeped into a coat that looked four sizes too big. His grey eyes were alight with wonder, though, and he stepped slowly, so to hear the crunch of the snow beneath his shoe.

Seto felt his breath caught. Yeah. He remembered this day. But he had forgotten how small Mokuba had been. It was hard to remember with the lanky giant he had become before him.

"Mokie!" shouted a high voice from inside the building. A heavy, ugly wooden door was proped open and Seto could just make out a brown head poking through.

"Hey! Here you come!" said Yugi.

And, sure enough, Seto's younger self came trotting out of the building. Even at the young age of eight, Seto had already perfected the icy glare he would use later to freeze all his enemies and annoyances in their place.

"Mokie! You're still sick! Get back inside, right now."

"But, Seto, I wanna build a snowman."

"We can build one when you're better."

"But then the snow will be all dry and crunchy and won't stick."

"Then I'll build you one later, just get back where it's warm."

"I wanna build it!" whined the little Mokuba.

"What's the point to this." asked the older Seto from where he stood with Yugi. Neither of the brothers even glanced in their direction, so he had already assumed they couldn't see him. He had given up trying to explain everything that was happening. It was probably just one of those freaky vivid dreams, and no choice now but to go along with it.

Yugi had a serene smile on his face as he watched the wailing Mokuba being dragged through the snow by Seto. "To remind you of what Christmas use to be for you."

Seto snorted. "Oh, please, it's a holiday and always was. A day in December set aside by Germanic pagans and then adopted by the Christians as the day of Christ's birth. It's all just some strategy of conquering the masses of a country with a varying culture."

Yugi was giving him a strange look. Seto glared at him in return. Their staring contest worked for a total of thirty seconds until Yugi realized they had lost track of the not-yet-Kaiba brothers and went to grab Seto's wrist again. Seto pulled it out of his reach. Oddly super strong he may have become, but the guy was still a shrimp.

"I'll follow, just go."

Together they walked up the poorly cleared sidewalk to the front door and walked in. Yugi looked around in confusion until Seto rolled his eyes and led him up the stairs to the boy's dorm. They passed a large living room full of loud, chattering children on their way.

"Christmas is not just a holiday," said Yugi. "It is a time set aside by mankind to remember what it means to be human, and more so. It's when we remember how to love, give charity to others, and reevaluate what's really important in our lives, such as family and friends. The spirit of Christmas is what draws us to remembrance, and its something that, if we strive to keep with us year round, will give us a truly happy, fulfilling life."

"Are you done yet?" Seto had stopped at a closed door. He could hear his younger self and his brother inside, and it was probably the strangest thing that had ever happen to him since he'd met his idiosyncratic rival.

Yugi gave him another one of his frowns-more-like-pouts. "Didn't Gozaburo show you where you're headed for? This is your last chance to change or you're going to end up like him."

"Oh, please, spare me. If I recall Dickens correctly, Ebeneezer Scrooge was an old man that was going to die soon. I'm twenty-six. I'm sure I'll have plenty of time and this is far from my last chance—as though it was ever needed."

"None of us know when we will die, Kaiba. I thought you'd know that by now."

Yugi sounded so unnaturally grim that Seto found himself starring, but Yugi had already snatched up his wrist again and dragged them through—THROUGH—the heavy oak door.

He wasn't even going to start on that one.

The boy's dorm was just as he remembered. It was a too small room filled with too many bunkbeds and colored in various ugly shades of orange and green. In the bed at the end, tucked into the corner, came the sounds of Mokuba's sniffles and Seto's quiet instructions to blow into the tissue. Of his own accord, Seto walked down the familiar scrubbed wooden floor, wondering if the bunkbeds had always been so small.

"But—but Mom and Dad, they always—sniff—they always built a snowman with us on Christmas morning."

"Our parents are dead, Mokie." said Seto flatly. To Mokuba's credit, he didn't even flinch.

"I know. I just..."

Mokuba didn't finish his sentence. But he didn't have to. Both the younger Seto and the invisible older Seto understood. Doing the traditions made it easier to forget that you didn't have a family. Once you had one, and only in those moments were they enough.

But the unnatural flush was still there on Mokuba's cheeks, and the younger Seto scrambled for the glass of water on the bedside table when his brother started coughing, deep and wetly.

Seto handed him the glass and Mokuba drank greedily.

"I know this Christmas has been...different. I," the younger Seto bowed his head, averting his eyes. "Look, I miss them too. But you can't go out in the cold making your fever worse just because of that. You still have me, after all. And what if the snow made you sicker? What if you left me here? Do you really want to leave me alone like that?"

Mokuba's watery eyes widened. His fingers tightened around the empty glass. "Oh, Seto, I didn't mean—no! I'll never leave you alone." Suddenly he burst back into tears. "I'm sorry, Seto! I'm sorry! I just wanted to build a snowman! I just wanted—I just wanted-"

"Shh, calm down, you're acting like a girl, Mokie. There's not reason to feel bad, I was just worried about you."

"I'm sorreeeeee!"

The older Seto watching the seen 'hmphed.' "I forgot how much of a crybaby Mokuba use to be."

"That was sweet of you to take care of him like that, though."

Seto flinched. He had almost forgotten that Yugi was there, watching the whole thing. He felt his neck get hot.

"Do you mind, Muto? These are my memories."

"Oh, don't worry about it. As part of the contract I'll be forgetting about all of these once we're through here."

Seto frowned. "What-"

But Mokuba's slightly croaky voice broke him off. "Oh! I got you a Christmas present. I was going to wait until you woke up to give it to you."

"I've been awake since six this morning."

"Well I didn't know that! I thought you had fallen asleep on the couch to catch Santa-" Mokuba broke off into coughs. His older brother took up the glass and moved to go fill it back up, but Mokuba stopped him with a hand on his sleeve. So his brother waited until the coughing fit was over and Mokuba had scooted up to reach his pillow.

"I hope you like it." He pulled out a small package wrapped clumsily by newspaper that had been slathered in Elmer's glue and what might have been red and green glitter. "Merry Christmas!"

Seto felt a little jump in his stomach and smiled involuntarily. Oh yeah. This Christmas. He couldn't remember the last time he had even thought about it, but how could he have ever forgotten it? He didn't need Yugi to remind him.

And yet, the warmth reached all the way down to his toes, just like it had then, as he watched his younger self carefully taking apart the newspaper wrapping, as though it were valuable, to reveal the Ziploc bag of fifty or so Duel Monsters cards in various states of wear.

His younger self gaped, started to smile in wonder, then thought better of it and stared at his brother in horror.

"How did you get these? We don't get an allowance."

"I traded for them." said his younger brother simply.

"With who? And what? We don't have anything."

"Kids from school."

Seto didn't miss how his brother didn't bother to answer his second question.

"Mokie," he said lowly, "what did you trade for these cards?"

His brother frowned and glared. "Nothing bad! I just agreed to do chores or errands for them. Most of the time it was just delivering letters or helping them get the answers on their homework. I never realized how stupid people are."

"They didn't make you do anything bad, did they?" Seto could already see his younger self's fists knot up so tight, he could see each knuckle and tending straining against his pale skin.

"Don't you like them?" said Mokuba, borderline desperate.

"Well, yes, of course, but I don't want them if it means you did something awful to get them."

But Mokuba had already relaxed on 'of course' and had melted back onto his pillow, coughing lightly and eyes drooping.

"Mokuba-"

"Can't you trust me?" said Mokuba. "Will you teach me how to play later today?"

His younger self hesitated, though he seemed to notice how tired his little brother looked, so he backed off of the bed, unzipping the Ziploc bag and taking out the cards. None of the cards were much good. They were common cards, usually the kind people threw away, but they were his, and Seto would make the best and more of them.

They were the start, after all. The start of his legacy.

The small Seto looked on his brother with bright eyes as he fell into a feverish sleep. The cards were held carefully in his hands, as though they were the most valuable cards in the world.

"Do you remember what you did next?" asked Yugi.

"Yeah," said Seto, "I went outside and made a snowman for my brother. Then, when he woke up, I wrapped him up in a blanket and carried him on my back so he could put the carrot and hat on. He wanted to be the one who put the hat on in case it brought the snowman alive, like in Frosty the Snowman."

Then he realized who he was talking to and tried to smother the embarrassment before it could show. Reminding himself that Yugi wouldn't remember any of this, and if there was one thing he knew about his rival it was his unwavering honesty, Seto cleared his throat and turned.

"Anything else you got for me or can I go to bed? I have important work to do in the morning."

If Yugi was annoyed with this, he didn't show it, which was so like him, Seto thought. Rather, he pivoted on the spot and made his way back to the door. It didn't take long, even for Yugi's short legs, and when the white robed duelist threw open the door rather than walk through it, Seto found himself staring into a room he remembered far too well and instinctively moved to coil back. Yugi didn't notice, however, and stepped in.

"Come on, Kaiba."

And then Seto found himself in his old study, the door to the orphanage vanishing behind him. His hands started sweating, and he silently berated himself for the clenching in his stomach. Gozaburo was dead. This was but a memory.

The room was refined, that much could be said. The walls were painted a pleasing forest green, and the floor to ceiling bookshelves were made of dark mahogany. A fire burned in the fireplace, and at first glance one would think this place comfortable.

But the moment he spotted himself, now at ten, head hung down onto on open book, a leather collar locked around his neck and chained to one of the legs of his desk, any warmth the place could hold shattered. Even Yugi stopped with an intake of breath.

"What the—wait a minute." he frowned, looking about him, as though unsure of himself. "No, this is the right day, but why would he have told me to take you here..."

"Who told you?" asked Seto, thinking he might tear off said whoever's face for making him come back here.

"Is that a chain around your neck?" Yugi's face was not something Seto wanted to see, especially towards himself. "Did your father-"

"Step father." Seto snapped.

"Did he do this?"

"He did it hundreds of time, now stop gawking and get to the point of this memory so we can leave."

Yugi bit his lip and nodded before turning back to the seen. As though pushing play, a door to the side of them opened and a maid came in with a book in her hand. She set it on the desk softly, but it was enough to make the boy snap up with a start. His blue eyes were bloodshot, shadowed, and there was a sickly sort of boniness to his face.

"You forgot this." she said.

"Thanks." the younger Seto muttered.

Without another word the maid turned and stepped back out, shutting the door tight behind her. Seto heard the snap of the lock reengaging before turning back eagerly, a memory returning to him. Wait, this couldn't be _that_ time would it? He hadn't even realized it had been Christmas.

Sure enough, though, when his ten-year-old self dropped the book in a frustrated, dismayed, and exhausted fury, a piece of paper floated out. The young Seto picked it up. Yugi and his reluctant companion went behind him to see what he was looking at.

A card stock rectangle, roughly the shape of a card, had been illustrated with a sloppy, but distinctive blue lined, white dragon with blue dots for eyes. On the top, just like a normal Duel Monster's card, was the monster's level, name, and below the picture, a description.

The boy picked the book up, straining against the collar at his throat to reach it, and searched through the pages again where he found a note written in his younger brother's careful, but clumsy scrawl.

_I know you've always wanted a Blue-Eyes White Dragon, so I made you one, and I know, one day, you'll have a real one. And then we can both jump on it's back and fly far away from here. Keep strong, Seto, you're still the best big brother anyone could ask for. I love you._

_Merry Christmas._

Yugi had the decency this time to turn away when his younger self started to shamelessly bawl. Seto, however, stood there, watching the big fat tears roll down his other's self. Through all of Gozaburo's torture, the grueling studies, the whip, none of it had made him cry. He had refused to buckle or to show the weakness the man constantly accused him of. But Mokuba's gift...it had given him the strength he had needed, and realizing his own exhaustion and despair then in the face of the warmth had made him fall.

But it had given him resolve. That day, he decided, that he would make Mokuba's words come true. He would become powerful enough to own a Blue-Eyes one day. He would free them from this hell and become someone that no one, not even Gozaburo, would dare to mess with.

"Your little brother really loves you."

"Yes." said Seto.

"And you love him too. You would have done anything for him, then and when we were younger." Yugi glanced at him over his shoulder. "Do you still."

Seto scoffed and avoided Yugi's gaze. "He's a man now. He hasn't needed his older brother in years."

"You know that's not true. If it was, why would he keep coming to your office to make sure you came home? Why do you think he keeps going through girlfriends?"

"Because he's a softie and can't see a gold digger when she's right in front of him." Seto hesitated. "Wait, how do you know all that?"

"It's because he is seeking your approval. He knows he's a softie, and so he's depending on you to help him find someone worth his trust. He's still depending on you." He caught a flash of Yugi's cheek balling up into a smile before he turned back around. "And I am Mokuba's friend, still. We talk."

This time the room blurred around them. The last thing Seto saw was his past self, clinging to the homemade dragon card, before a much different scene materialized around him. He recognized the conference room on the top floor of Kaiba Corps's Headquarters instantly. Large ceiling to floor windows lined two walls, displaying the spread of Domino city like a glittering map of circuitry and computer hardware. The nearby skyscrapers seemed to serve as a silver and yellow framing to the city view. Buffet tables lined one wall, filled with all manner of exotic treats, and gorgeous eight foot tall trees stood in every corner, their decorations glittering like jewels and the dresses of old queens.

In the middle of the room, inter spaced with small tables, were finely dressed people, most with glasses of champagne and their eyes glinting in the light of the small, but fine chandelier just above their heads. Dozens of conversations created a soft murmur over the crowd.

"Wow, are all your get togethers this fancy?" asked Yugi.

But Seto ignored him. Instead his eyes had zoomed in on one person in particular. He remembered her, alright, and he instantly knew what was in store for him in this memory. However, he kept it at the back of his mind, just as he always had, refusing to acknowledge it.

The woman in question stood against one of the windows, looking out at the city with, what he knew to be, sparkling sky blue eyes framed by thick lashes. Her silver hair reached her down to her knees, but for tonight she had twisted it all up into a messy pile on top of her hair that dripped soft curls across her bare, snow-like shoulders. The blue dress she wore only served to accent the curves that asked to be held, to be grabbed onto, even in his dreams he had to be on guard not to do just that.

"She's gorgeous."

Seto looked to the side to see that Yugi had followed his gaze and also saw the slender woman on her own next to the window.

"Do you know her name?" he asked.

"Kisara."

Though, just as he said it, his own voice echoed it back to him, and he watched as himself, only a year younger, approached the beautiful girl. She turned around, and for the first time Seto noticed how her face softened to a warm expression, as though she could embrace him with the look in her eyes and the curve of her smile.

He drew back. He didn't want to watch him. It took Yugi a minute or so to realize Seto wasn't with him anymore. The conversation just a bit a ways had caught him up, and when he finally looked back to see Seto against the far wall and out of earshot, his face had colored. He trotted up to him, white robe flouncing along with him.

"Oh my gosh, Kaiba."

"Shut up."

"You had a girl! That girl really loves you! I'm so impressed!"

"I said shut up."

"And even while—oh my gosh, I didn't know you could even say things like that, if I could say things like that I would've gotten a girl by now easy!"

"Yugi Muto, if you don't shut up this instant I will find you when all this is over and tear out that stupid hair do of yours."

Yugi's eyes got big, even bigger than they usually were. He looked positively chibi. He didn't look scared, though, rather he looked surprised or concerned, but pressed his lips shut and turned around. After a few minutes, the other Seto and Kisara wandered out of the conference room, close enough to brush hands once in a while, but otherwise keeping their distance. Seto watched himself, never realizing how obvious he had looked, nor how the people behind him watched him, whispering to himself. It made his shame grow.

And how could he have missed that stupid look on his face?

Yugi moved to follow them, looking back at Seto specifically.

"I don't want to go."

"This is the last one. You just need to see this and we'll be done."

"I don't need to."

"Apparently, you do." Yugi frowned. "It's okay, Seto. Nothing's going to happen to you. All of this has already happened. You can't do anything."

Then Seto found himself unwillingly moving one foot in front of the other, slipping through the door, down the hall and turning to an empty storage room for chairs and tables where he knew he would be. His mind must have been disconnected from his body, because even when Yugi peered around the ajar door and jumped back, face red as a beet, he found he didn't care and kept moving to plant his feet inside the doorway.

His past self had Kisara wrapped in his arms and melded against his body in that most natural way that only a man and a woman can achieve. She had her arms wrapped about his neck, pale hands buried into his hair, and was kissing him for all she was worth. Even as his other self proceeded to ran his hands down her back and hold her all the more tighter, he felt numb. He could even spy Yugi watching from behind him and couldn't care.

Kisara pulled back from him, breathless. He noticed smears of lipstick on his other self's mouth and a bright eyed, hungry look to his face he didn't like.

"I love you," she breathed. "God, Seto, I love you so much."

He heard himself catch his breath.

"Please, stay with me. I'll do whatever you ask, just stay with me."

"You don't have to say that." he said.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned down to kiss her once more.

And then suddenly Seto could remember, just as clearly as if he were in his other self's place right then. He remembered how it felt to have another human being against him, not just a woman, for the first time in over a decade. The warmth had been bliss, her smell had overwhelmed him. He had worked with her for months now, knew her loyalty, knew her fire, knew the way she pulled up her leg on the nearest chair or desk leg whenever she was getting irritated, or the way she loaded her coffee up with so much cream it almost stopped being a beverage and became more like sugary milk.

Yugi was waiting for him out in the hall, face still red.

"You loved her." he said quietly, as though worried about scaring the taller man away.

"Yes." said Seto dully.

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know."

"Did something happen?"

"No." said Seto, closing his eyes tight. "That's exactly why."

Yugi didn't ask, and even if he had, Seto wouldn't have heard him. He tried to focus on the dark of his eyelids rather than the memories, but they rushed through without a care for his efforts to ignore them. He had promised to meet her the next morning for coffee. She had kissed him until he started to remember that he had guests to attend to and lipstick to clean off his face and neck.

Then, he had gone home, fell asleep, and chosen to forget all about her when he woke up. He didn't meet her for coffee. He transferred her to a different department, one that was far away from him so their paths would never cross, and she never tried to get a hold of him again. In fact, a month later, he was handed a report with a letter of her resignation.

It had been conscious decision, and an unconscious one at the same time. He had simply come to his senses and realized it would never work between him and her, if not because of himself, then because of his enemies. Loving others only served as a weakness to be used against you. Having a little brother had been almost more than he could handle, and his brother coming of age had finally been the stress relief he had been longing for. He had even justified pushing Mokuba out of his mind by stating that he had used enough of his time and energy keeping him alive that he deserved just a bit of a break to focus purely on his work.

Kisara would have been too much. She would have been his undoing.

But he had promised.

And now, watching from a distance and revisiting the look on her eyes, the feel of her kisses, her plea for him to stay with her, something awful was unleashed inside him. He almost couldn't believe that this was just emotional pain, for it felt as though his organs were intent on peeling apart from each other and tearing themselves to pieces. How could this be clinically possible?

When he opened his eyes he was back in his room, staring at the moonlight through his open window and hugging his chest as though afraid it would burst.


	4. Hungry, Jolly, Christmas Present

**Yeah, I'm pumping these out pretty fast, so I guess that would explain why not so many people have found it, but I want to finish it before Christmas so y'all can have a nice Christmas Story!**

**Let me know what you think. **

Chapter Four: Hungry, Jolly, Christmas Present

He fell asleep without meaning to. There had been the intention in his mind to get up and do the scouring of his bedroom for holographic projectors he had been meaning to since the beginning of this crazy, hallucinogenic night, but then he was waking up to boisterous laughter. He didn't bother to see what time it was. The itching of his eyes and the phenomenal desire to kill told him well enough.

His bedroom door cracked against the wall with the force of Seto's fury.

"_What the hell_-"

Whatever he had been about to say got sucked away into the huge cornucopia, spilling fruit of every kind onto the hallway floor. A small table had been set against the wall, and on top of it was a delicious, old fashion American feast, with turkey, ham, homemade bread, beans-

And sitting at it all, with another cornucopia slipping vegetables at his feet, was none other than Joey Wheeler, with his nose in a comic book.

"Oh man," he was saying through peels of laughter, "whoever said Catwoman didn' have a sense o' humor never looked away from dat ass! Oh flipp'n man! Hoo!"

One of his hands strayed from the comic to a chicken leg in front of him and reeled it back into his mouth. Seto didn't have to check to know they were alone in the hall, and furiously planned to fire ever single maid and security man on staff for this invasion. Maybe he could understand someone on the Terminator level sneaking into his house, but the mutt?

"Wheeler," he growled.

Joey looked up, cheeks bursting with chicken like a hamster's. "'ey, Kaiba. 'Bout time. Nice jammies, by the way."

"Stop spewing food all over my carpet and tell me how the _hell_ someone like you got into my house."

Joey snorted, a remarkable feat seeing he also swallowed at the same time. "Like you'd believe me. Let's just say I'mma freak'n ninja and move on. We're short on time here." Joey whipped out his arms as though giving a grand presentation. "Lord Moneybags, I'm the-"

"Ghost of Christmas Present." said Seto distastefully. He had just noticed what Wheeler was wearing: rich, red robes trimmed with glinting gold and green holly. Besides the fact it was almost nauseatingly holiday rich, it didn't suit his sorry white trash face and messy blond hair.

"Did you have to sell everything you owned to get those clothes? Can't say you have good taste."

"Shut yer trap, or I might just change my mind and leave you to rot in hell like yer old man, I'm not as nice as Yug, see."

"Like a mutt like you'd have any say in how my afterlife goes."

Joey threw down his chicken leg. "Again with the mutt insults. I'll have you know I wouldn't've even agreed to this job if it weren't for the food, even if I won't be remembr'n any of this after wards. If it weren't for the fact I love yer litt'l brother ta death, I'd say good riddance and dance on your grave."

"Like you'd even be able to afford that."

Joey bared his teeth, but closed his eyes and took a deep breath of air. Setting down his Catwoman comic book, he pushed back his chair and stood. He didn't bothering opening his eyes or responding till he stood in the middle of the hall, away from the table of food and cornucopias. Then, when he did, he forced on a smile and hooked his hands onto his hips.

"I'm here to share with you the Christmas of the here and now. The importance of the Christmas of today is because it is the greatest gift we will ever have and it gives us the chance to appreciate the family, friends, and blessings we do have. The present is a gift of gratitude."

Seto rolled his eyes and crossed his arm. "That was easy, then. I'm thankful for my nice big house, high IQ, and the balls to make any man ashamed. Good night and good bye, I'll be seeing your mutt face never."

"Oh what the freak, that's it, come here you-"

"Like you could ever-"

But Joey's fist had already made contact with his jaw without Seto ever realizing that he had reached him. He had just comprehended the pain when another fist went into his gut, leaving him blinking at the ceiling and wondering what in the world ever happened to his black belt.

Joey appeared in his view, tacky gold and red robes and all.

"And dat's another reason why I took this job." he said smugly. "I got more than enough ghostly juice to beat your rich ass. Yer com'n with me, Kaiba."

Right as Seto found his breath to tell Joey to do something very undignifying to himself in very choice words, the dog had his forearm and was yanking him up and up and up into a brilliant gold sun that had suddenly come into being on his ceiling. The smells of the feast vanished to be replaced by the cold, clean scent of snow and air.

He saw blue before he met the ground face first. The cackling of Wheeler behind him made any bruising pain become insignificant. He peeled himself off the ground, spitting out snow, swearing up a sailor of a storm.

"Pretty words you got there, Kaiba." snickered Joey.

"When I'm through with you there's going to be a new hole in your ass you never had before."

"Sure, sure, whatever. Just look up before you do that. You're going to want to see who's walk'n towards us."

He did so, doing everything possible to sweep up to his feet in a dignified manner. The black silk pajamas didn't help, and this time, when his feet met the freezing snow, no one bothered to conjure his soft warm slippers for him.

There, walking towards them, was Mokuba, back to his eighteen year old self. Holding tightly to his hand was a petite, slight girl with doe-like eyes and dark hair that bounce about her cheeks. She barely reached his shoulder.

"It's been like this ever since Gozaburo left the picture," his brother was saying. "I don't think it's going to change, and I've given up believing I could change any of that."

The girl looked up at him with concern, and Seto, ever sharp when it came to his observance of human nature, knew it in an instant to be sincere. "There's always hope. Maybe, tonight, it will be different-"

Mokuba cut her off with a dismissive grunt that sounded all too much like his brother. "No it won't."

"How can you say that!"

"Because I know him, Kristy, I know him better than anyone. And miracles don't exist where he's concerned." he kicked at the snow with his converse. "In the world he's made you either make it happen or you don't. There is not chance, there is no magic, there is no nothing."

His brother suddenly stopped in front of Seto and Joey, as though frozen. For a minute Seto got the horrifying thought that he had been seen—not because his brother would have then caught him listening in on an obviously private conversation about him, but because that meant he could be seen standing in the snow in his nightclothes with Wheeler dressed up to be a Christmas tree topper besides him. His image would never recover.

But instead Mokuba tipped his head up towards the sky, mouth parted, eyes wide to the blue of the sky. They shone with tears.

"How can he not see it? How can he not feel it? How cold and lonely he's become? He's not like Gozaburo, he's worse! He's worse because he still has feeling, still has a heart, but refuses to accept any happiness that comes of it. I love him, Kristy, but he hardly even looks my way any more. How can he live like that? All numbers, all stocks, surrounded by selfish people who hate him?"

"It's just the nature of his job, Mokie-"

"But it doesn't have to be! He has all the money in the world, but for what?" Mokuba lowered his face back down, untwisting his hand from the girl's to rub both his palms hard against his eyes. "It's done, it's been done for years. Seto's dead. I don't have a brother anymore. I don't know when it happened, or if I'm just being stupid, but he's gone. There's no use waiting for him anymore."

The girl frowned, looking dismayed. "What do you mean?"

"Kristy," Mokuba's voice was shaking. He then did the unexpected. His younger brother dropped to one knee in the dirty snow and slipped out a velvet box from his jacket pocket. Kristy's eyes flew wide and his gloved fingers clumsily popped it open. From his distance, all Seto could make out was a luminescent sparkle.

"Kristy, please marry me. I want a family, and I want to make that family with you."

The dark haired, pale faced girl just stared down at the jewel and the boy who held it. She didn't weep for joy, she didn't jump in place, and she didn't yell. Instead, her expression crumpled and she fell in the snow in front of him.

"Mokie," she said, voice thick with tears, "if I say yes, will that make you happy?"

"Of course," he said quickly, "but shouldn't you be worried about myself?"

Tears finally leaked out of her eyes and she gave him a watery smile.

"Mokuba Kaiba, I'll never meet a man as wonderful, naïve, silly, and good as yourself. I'll be the happiest girl in the world." She tipped over like a dove and pecked a chaste kiss onto Mokuba's forehead. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." his brother breathed.

Seto turned to the side as they kissed, feeling oddly mismatched. He should be angry. His brother hadn't even bothered to ask his opinion on this or even told him it had gotten this far. If he had just told him he had been planning to propose to the freaking girl, maybe he wouldn't have been so quick to shake off the dinner that night.

But he was then caught up by the curious tilt of Joey's mouth.

"What are you smiling at, mutt?"

"You don't know that girl, do you?"

"Your point?"

Joey's smile faltered and he downright stared in disbelief. "You're telling me that the little brother you risked life and limb for and lived your life for is about to marry a girl and you haven't even met her yet? Is everything he said true about you then?" Joey then smirked again and snorted. "Of course it's true. You don't have to be Kaiba's precious, oh-so-close little brother to know that."

Seto scowled. "You don't know anything about me."

"Oh? Ever 'eard of the scripture 'you will know a man by his fruits'?

"Never took you for the religious type."

"Like you ever cared, but let's just take a look at how I know what kind o' man you are."

Joey turned and started walking down the street. Seto meant to stay just where he was—like hell he was going to do anything that Wheeler suggested—but then the colors around them began to blur and Seto found himself being dragged along by some invisible force, almost as though someone had pressed a wall against his body and it steadily shoved him forward.

"Say, I ain't no expert, but isn't eighteen awful young to get married?"

"You're point?"

"Just saying yer brother must be desperate or somethan. How long has he even known that chick?"

But Seto didn't respond. He was both too busy trying to keep his ambiguous balance as well as wondering why his brother ever had to be desperate for anything, let alone desperate for love. But the answer was stewing in the part of his mind that also remembered the kiss he had shared with Kisara.

When the weird little super speed walking was over, Seto found himself in a non-distinct neighborhood he didn't recognize. All he did notice was the bad paint jobs and roofs in need of new shingles. The lawns were unkempt and dead, and the cars in the driveways were used and frequently patched with different colors.

"Why are we here?" Seto asked.

"To visit an employee of yours."

"Like any employee of mine would live in a dump like this. I know you and the geek squad think I'm some sort of reincarnated Scrooge, but I'll have you know I pay my employees well."

"Yeah yeah, I'm not gonna argue semantics with you." Joey unceremoniously kicked open the gate of a single story, shotgun style house. "Just make my job easy and get yer pasty behind inside the house."

"Do you even know what semantics mean?"

"Sure I do, now get in."

And so Seto found himself stepping through the door like a ghost again, which got him wondering why he had to spit snow out of his mouth earlier or why he felt the cold.

Inside the house was meticulously clean, well kept, and filled with the smell of old mac and cheese. The shaggy brown carpet was patched with stains and the popcorn ceiling above his head made his nose wrinkle.

Then there were the children. Yelling, screaming, snotty little cretins running about with blankets and cheap plastic thrift store toys. Seto counted five, but the way they ran about like complete maniacs multiplied them by three.

For once, he was consciously glad that he was some sort of invisible, incorporeal ghost thing.

And then Mr. Whitaker walked out from the back of the house, clothes rumpled, face blotchy and pale.

"Children!"

They must have not been used to their father raising his voice, for it was as though the earth had fallen out from under the childrens' feet. Half of them fell onto their butts, the oldest stopped and stared, and the smallest dropped her fists to her knees and started to bawl.

Mr. Whitaker sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his shining, balding scalp. The hand shook so bad that the measly sweater sleeve fell down to his elbow.

"Kids, I'm sorry, it's just, your mother...I have work I need to finish too. If I don't, I won't be able to afford mommy's medicine, so please, just a little quiet."

The living room's deathly silence almost hurt more than the unholy din before. Seto glanced at Joey's expression, but he couldn't even begin to see what the mutt could be thinking, which was a rare one for him.

When Mr. Whitaker finally turned around, heaving breaths as though his nose wasn't working quite right, the children coiled back into the corner with a shabby looking Christmas tree and Joey and Seto followed. The man lead them into a darkened master bedroom that was taken up by a hospital bed. A fragile, frail, grey skinned woman lay propped up in it, her hollow gaze following her husband with a forlorn look.

"You didn't have to yell, it's Christmas, they have a right to be excited."

Mr. Whitaker sighed again, even heavier than the last. "I know, dear, I know."

He took up a chair next to her bed, where a laptop waited for him, and rubbed his eyes hard beneath his glasses before locking his eyes on the screen and typing away. The room fell quiet, and Seto watched as the slip of a woman closed her eyes and slipped into sleep. He noticed that he could see blue veins through her skin, fat and swollen like worms.

"Any of your Ghost of Present powers can tell me what's going on here and what it has to do with me?" Seto asked.

"Thought you'd never ask." Joey slipped his hands into his sleeves, looking rather sagely while doing so. "This lady here's heart is failing. It can be fixed with a heart transplant, but because her bloodtype or whatever is so rare that guy over there has to wait until a hospital in the area is able to find a donor with a match. She might not last till then, but he's been spending every extra penny he can squeeze out to afford the expensive care needed to prolong her life."

Joey's accent had diminished considerable, and he actually started striking a pretty impressive figure next to Seto, holding his arms like some Obi One Kanobi and talking like a normally educated young man.

"And this has to do with me...?"

In a flash the dignified sage was gone and his face flamed with passion.

"Isn't that the same man you bullied into working on Christmas? Who knows how many days his wife has, and yet he's struggling to spend time with her and keep his job with you so he can afford to keep her alive. In an hour he's going to have to return to his office for the rest of the day, away from his family, in order to finish your stupid ass project."

Seto flinched back, but instantly made up for it by straightening to his full height. "What is wrong with you people? Christmas is just some holiday in December, a day to celebrate commercialism."

"Haven't you been listen to a word Yugi or I say? He's was meant to remind you of what's left of yer humanity, as Christmas' of the past are to do, and me? I'm to remind you of the here and now and how yer soul, yer worth, is doing now."

Seto scolwed. "What are you talking about? My worth?"

"Yeah, moneybags, yer worth. Christmas is about what's really important, what's really of worth, and the worth of a human soul is based off of it's relations to others. Tell me, jerkweed, got any friends? Name one."

"And again, with the friendship speeches, I thought I heard the last of them when-"

"Exactly, none. If you had any, it would be Yugi, who's saved yer sorry ass more times than I can count, and that's only because he considers you his friend. Well, let's see what happens to the ones foolish enough to call you friend."

The surroundings blurred in a sickening whirl. It was almost as though the colors, this time, were reflecting the rage which Joey held himself. In an instant, and with the vague sensation that his stomach was about to unend into his mouth, Seto found himself in a large, bland, green room that looked like a poorly furnished rec room of a retirement home. The people that inhabited, however, were of varying ages, from teenagers to the elderly, and they all wore plain blue scrubs. There was no Christmas tree. The few windows were small and shaded. For all Seto knew, the mutt had broken the 'Christmas only' rule and slapped him right smack down in the middle of July.

"Christmas day, later today, to be exact," said Joey, as though hearing his thoughts. "And guess where your self-proclaimed buddy is? The one that always had your back, whether you wanted it or not?"

That same invisible force that had shoved him with the sensation of a wall now forced his face over to a corner, where a small figure crouched, as though trying to be as small as possible. With growing trepidation, Seto walked over of his own accord.

Yugi Muto had curled himself up next to a bookcase, his knees hugged tightly to his chest. His eyes were unfocused, empty, and the radiant creature he had been an hour earlier in Seto's room was nowhere to be seen. Even the kids wild hair seemed to be drooping, and he almost matched Mrs. Whitaker for paleness.

Frowning, Seto looked about the room once more. The only double doors looked heavy and Seto could make out the heavy bolts that had been jackhammered in to hold the thick metal. Two men in white with bulging muscles manned the doors, their eyes darting about the room at each of the people inside—the patients.

"This isn't a-"

"It is." said Joey, his eyes hot. "This is Domino Psychiatric Hospital, or the asylum, if you please."

Seto looked back down at his once formidable rival. With the lost, empty expression, even though he was as old as Seto himself, he looked as though he hadn't aged a day over fifteen. But this couldn't be right. Sure Seto had wondered himself if Yugi had some sort of split personality disorder or something, but after all they had been through together, if Yugi belonged here, so did Seto. There was a lot of crap in this world that Seto didn't want to throw up to mystical hocus-pocus, but he would always know one thing, and that was Yugi wasn't crazy. Egyptian voodoo and crazy personality switch put aside, Yugi was not crazy.

But even if someone else had thought differently, Seto had seen for himself that, after the shrimp had gotten rid of that tacky bling pyramid of his, the voice dropping had stopped and his, along with Seto's, life had gone back to being considerably tame. There should be no reason that Yugi should be here now. He wasn't here a year ago, when Seto had last seen him to talk about using his title of King of Games for Kaiba Corp benefit, and he had been even more sane than himself than, so why was he here now?

"What happened?" he asked.

"His grandpa died." said Joey. "He was the one who was protecting Yugi and believing in him. His mother's been want'n to throw him in here since the moment she got a whiff of what the Millennium Puzzle and all that, but gramps threatened her with all sorts of stuff, including throwing her out, if she even so much as thought about it. So, when gramps died and Yugi inherited the Game Shop, she tossed him in here, sold the Game Shop, and moved who knows where."

"Oh, come on, that can't be legal," Seto looked back down at the still, pathetic form of the one person he respected more than himself. "That sort of junk only happens in bad movies. Surely the doctors here have tested him, seen to it that he's not crazy."

"But she's his mother. She committed him here, and only she can check him out."

"That can't be right."

"But it is." Joey suddenly looked haggard and his hands dropped to his side. "Believe me, I've been trying to get him out for months. You may not need Yugi's friendship, but I do. You know how long I lasted without him? And you better not tell the me in real life that you know this, because I'll kill you, but I only lasted three months and it's almost been a year now."

"What do you mean, Wheeler? Needed someone to hold your hand?"

"I guess I did, because if you go back to 35th Martin St. you'll find me passed out in a gutter, beaten within an inch of my life for refusing to rob a store." Joey shook his head, ending with his bangs hiding his expression. "Almost right where Yugi found me when we were fifteen. Really pathetic, huh?"

Seto watched as his other, self-proclaimed rival turned into shambles in front of him, and not even the expensive, wizard like robes could hide that. Before them Yugi was called out to by the men at the door and he got up without complaint. With Joey trailing behind like the ghost he claimed to be, Seto followed Yugi into a bland, hopeless room with a cheap bed, no windows, and padded walls.

The door was locked behind them.

And then Yugi fell apart as well. He collapsed, forehead to the ground, arms around his head.

"Yami, pharaoh," Seto heard. "I know you were real, I know it. But why am I here? What did I do?"

Then Joey collapsed next to his friend, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulders which Yugi would never feel.

"Aw, man, come on. I'll get you outta here." Joey pulled his hand away sharply with a curse. "Who am I kidd'n. I can't even pick myself out of my own shit. Yug, buddy," his voice trembled and he dug his hands through his messy mop of yellow hair. "Yug, you deserved so much better than me. I'm such a failure, I'm such a failure."

And right as Seto felt his own throat close up, despite the voices in his head mocking and pointing out the new low the geek squad had come to, he found himself in his room once more, bare feet on the carpet, eyes out the open window, and no more warm laughter in the hallway.


	5. The Future Who Doesn't Care 4 Christmas

Chapter Five: The Future Who Doesn't Care About Christmas

He didn't get much time to gather himself before a new voice got his attention.

"Well well, Priest, trying to avoid your time of reckoning, are we?"

Seto sat up, stalwartly smothering his tremblings. Standing between the doorway and his window stood a white haired man, whose robes reached past his feet and pooled onto the floor. He held a scythe in his hand that gleamed wickedly in the moonlight. The man's eyes reflected back at Seto, like a cat's.

"Ryou Bakura?" Seto said, unable to keep the uncertainty out of his voice. No, this was the other one. If anyone belonged in an asylum, it was this guy—and so, of course, Yugi had tried making friends with him. Strange ones, the geek squad, making friends with every freak they met, almost like they thought they were on some children's show or something.

But Seto didn't bother asking this time how he had gotten into his room. For once, his invader was someone he could actually see not having a problem with getting where he needed to go.

"Call me whatever you like," said the man, white teeth flashing. "I'm the Ghost of Christmas Future, whatever the hell that is."

"Isn't the Ghost of Christmas Future suppose to be silent?"

"Is that so? Well, seeing as I'm Egyptian and haven't cared to educate myself on this patchy holiday of you mortals, let's just say I do talk—not that I'm going to be telling you much of anything."

"Whatever," Seto slipped back out of his bed and straightened his pajama top unnecessarily. "I'm ready whenever you are."

The man chuckled, and the cat-like eyes flashed dangerously. Seto wondered faintly how he could have ever mistaken the quiet, book-worm Ryou for this nutjob.

"I'm going to enjoy this." he hissed.

The moonlight flickered off like a lamp. One by one, the streetlights outside and throughout his grounds snuffed out. With each lost light, the gleam of Bakura's (that seemed like a reasonable name to give him, Seto figured, seeing as that's what everyone else called him), eyes grew brighter. Though, no matter how dark it became, the robed form of his visitor remained darker, keeping him constantly visible before Seto's eyes.

Bakura beckoned him with a bare, pale hand. "Come, mortal. Let's take a look into your dismal future, shall we?"

Not mentioning that all that was behind Bakura, Seto walked towards him, following him into the darkness that had swallowed the world whole.

"So why'd you take this job?" asked Seto. He didn't like not knowing anything about this guy. Yugi and Joey he had known, but this one...

"Low number of applicants," he said, "and I've been dying to watch the big bad Priest cry like a baby."

"I'm not the Priest." Seto knew who he was talking about. He had been to that ancient world.

"Oh, but you are, and that's why all this is so wickedly funny. You were once so high and mighty, now look at you." The man cackled.

A dim light was ahead of them. As soon as Seto noticed it, the darkness vanished, and he found himself out in the street on a cloudy, snowy day outside his mansion. As his vision cleared, he could make out men coming in and out of his house, watched over by one of his butlers. There was a stage out on the lawn, which the men would bring an item, one at a time, before an auctioneer, who rambled at quick-fly speed into a microphone. A crowd of people gathered before the stage, lifting up their numbers occasionally.

Seto snorted. "If this is suppose to make me feel sorry-"

"You've died yesterday." Bakura had a finger to his chin, as though contemplating the universe and not the fact that he just so rudely cut Seto off. "Now tell me, where is that dear little brat of yours in all this? I'll tell you: hundreds of miles in the Bahamas with his new wife."

Seto flinched. "Wife? He got remarried?"

"No, you idiot, but who cares?"

"Wait, what year is this?"

Bakura 'tch'ed him as though he were a child. "No one is allowed to know the date of their death for their own protection, though..." that wicked smile returned to his face, the one Seto had hoped to forgotten from all those years ago in that strange ancient Egyptian drug trip. "Such a pity your life won't be very long, and with all that money to enjoy."

The auctioneer cried out a loud 'sold!' and Seto watched as a man in gloves handed over a coffee table to be loaded up into someone's car.

"And now, what you've all been waiting for..."

A loud hush came over the crowd. The air of excitement was almost tangible, even for the two otherworldly visitors standing at the gates.

"I want to see your face," said Bakura, gesturing to him. "Come come, closer we get."

And then Seto was at the end of the stage, staring out into the crowd, watching the auctioneer as he built up the suspense. Seto didn't really listen to a work he was saying, his mind starting to wander to things he'd rather not think about, when a man stepped up onto the platform holding a glass case as though it were gold.

Seto's breath hitched.

Inside, laid against velvet and protected in their own cases, was his three Blue-Eyes White Dragons.

Bakura snorted. "Aw, Ra, you're something."

"I don't need your commentary."

"Ah, but see here, this just goes to show what kind of man you really are. I bet I wouldn't have gotten as big of a reaction if I had taken you to your own brother's funeral, but show your precious dragons being auctioned off to someone else on Christmas day," he laughed into his throat, tucking his too-white hands into his sleeves. "I love your priorities, Priest."

And then suddenly, without Seto's notice, the two of them were walking up an aisle of a humble church. The pews were empty, and yet there was a casket in the front made of fine ebony and pouring with white and blue flowers. Two people sat on the front row, and Seto instantly recognized his brother and his girlfriend. His heart leaped as he realized his brother didn't look much older than he was in the present, even with his face smeared with trails of tears.

"What-" he turned on the smirking Bakura, who was petting the head of his curved scythe like a cat. "What is this? How can I die so young?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." purred his host.

Seto felt his insides tremor in a way he always tried to avoid. He wouldn't admit to what it was, for that would only feed it.

"Tell me now, or I'll-"

Bakura burst into high-pitched laughter. "Oh, that's quaint! A dying man! Threatening me? Oh that's lovely. What are you going to do? Sue me?"

And then suddenly they were somewhere else. There was no charm to Bakura's movement. One minute Seto was staring at the man petting his scythe, and the next he was facing a familiar, heavy metal door with a small observation window. His heart picked up a pace when he recognized the pale green lanolium floors and the orderlies walking around, visiting each cell one by one.

"Open it." said Bakura, as though the door were the wrappings to the most marvelous present. His mouth curved up till Seto knew that, if he smiled any wider, his mouth would reach his ears. "Go on."

Seto didn't like this.

"I don't take orders from anyone."

Bakura rolled his eyes, but his malicious, Joker smile didn't wane. "Oh, such a spoil sport."

And before Seto could respond, Bakura jabbed him in the stomach with the end of his scythe. He stumbled through the door and onto the floor. He felt his head hit something not quite soft and cursed. Then he flinched back when he realized nothing was _suppose_ to touch him when he was like this. He was a ghost or something, he was-

A small, slender body hung from the ceiling. They had designed these rooms so suicides wouldn't be possible, seeing that those in psychiatric wards had the highest tendencies to do just that. But, of course, Yugi could solve any puzzle, conquer any obstacle, obtain any goal.

Seto couldn't stop staring. Yugi was somehow older, so he couldn't have died the same time Seto had. He looked as though he had reached thirty, maybe. But Seto couldn't be sure, because he couldn't stand looking at that face. A small child inside him screamed that if he looked, something within him would break, something within his mind would be hurt.

Bakura's cackling filled the room, bouncing off of the cushioned walls and the ceiling where Yugi's makeshift rope knotted through.

"Funny, how all these things seemed to happen around Christmas, isn't it?"

"Why are you showing me this?" Seto croaked.

"You can't fathom how satisfying it is for me to see the Priest who frustrated all my desires being undone by something as a stupid Christian holiday where everyone get's drunk on raw eggs and spends too much money."

"This isn't my fault." Seto said, this time his voice more steady. "I didn't make Yugi do this, I'm not going to be the reason I die so early, this is not my fault!"

Bakura just laughed and laughed.

Seto slapped his hands over his ears and clenched his eyes shut. "Shut up!"

"Oh, poor little priest. Open your eyes. Just one last thing. One last thing and then it will be over."

Bakura sounded almost gentle, and longing to be back in his own shoes, back in his own time far away from these horrible images, he opened his eyes to find himself on the grass of a cemetery. Only a few feet away was Mr. Whitaker and his five children. The family was subdued, sitting around and watching as one of the little girls arranged poinsettias on the tombstone. Seto didn't have to ask. He knew exactly what happened.

"Why are you showing me this?" he asked again. "This has nothing to do with me! Aren't you suppose to be giving me some speech about why Christmas of the future is so important?"

Bakura's bared teeth were oh so white. "Again, I'm Egyptian, fool. What care I for your ridiculous holiday? I only took the job to watch you suffer."

And then the surroundings changed. They were in the cemetery again, this time late at night, and ahead of them was a different tombstone. But it wasn't the tombstone Seto saw, but the beautiful, long silver hair of the woman who knelt before it. She had her hands to her face, but she didn't sob. That wasn't like Kisara. And even as she watched she lowered her hands and he could see her face was dry.

"Go on," said Bakura, giggling with glee. "Oh, please, you have to see this one."

"You said we were done."

"I lied." he sounded as though he had just said the world's greatest joke. "Best Christmas ever, but you have to see. Go on."

"No! None of this has anything to do with me!"

"Ah, but don't you see?" His smile did reach his ears this time. "It has everything to do with you. The future brings with it regrets, lost potential, lost chances at happiness and fulfillment, and you, dear Priest, have a future full of it. And if you take a step forward, you'll get a taste of just how heavy your chains will be."

Again the scythe came up and Bakura shoved the butt-end of it into his back. Seto stumbled forward to Kisara's side, his heart racing, the clammy mist of the cemetery sticking to his skin and his feet numb from the cold.

Tremulously, he looked up.

_Seto Kaiba_

_Beloved Brother_

_Gone, but not forgotten._

_19XX to 20XX_

Besides him Kisara sat as beautiful as that night so long ago. Her face was paler than usual, but she kept her head bowed respectfully.

Seto scrambled back to his feet.

"I thought you said it was wrong for one to know the time of their death."

"Like I or anyone else has ever cared about your well being." said Bakura.

"You're wrong," said Seto, needing to justify the flutter of panic in his chest. "Mokuba cares about me, and—Yugi." And whoever had sent all these ghosts to him in the first place, whoever that was.

His guide just tipped his head back and roared with mirth, and arm clutching his stomach. It rankled in Seto's ears, made his blood run cold.

"Shut up." he muttered.

But he didn't. He even started bending over, grasping his knees for support.

Seto couldn't listen to this any longer. He turned to Kisara, who still had her head bowed, her hair lifting in a faint breeze. The ache in his chest added to the panic in his gut and he collasped at her side.

"Kisara, I swear, when I wake up from all this I'll find you-"

"Wake up? It's too late! Don't you see your death before you?"

"But I can change that!" Seto jumped back up to his feet. "Ebeneezer Scrooge changed his fate, so can I!"

"Who the hell is that?" asked Bakura, still peeling with mirth and wiping at his eyes. "Aw, who cares! Look at your life, Seto Kaiba, take a nice long look!"

And he did. Facing his tombstone with the woman he had thrown aside at his feet, he looked back. The days rushed before his eyes, blurring together till they all seemed like one. The only ones that stood out were the reluctant adventures he had taken with Yugi and the others and the times he had spent with his brother. They shone out with a gold he had never noticed. What was that? When had he become so lonely? When had he become so...greedy?

He saw Gozaburo in his mind's eyes, weighed down with chains.

"My only comfort now is knowing that you too will be in chains when this life ends."

Because that's all Gozaburo was. Without his company, without his power, who did he return to? What did he go home to? Who would want to welcome that man into their love and warmth? Who would want to keep him company? No, he would be tossed away into a corner, and Gozaburo would welcome it, because he was a hateful, cold, mistrustful man who always looked for betrayal and never had a need for love in the first place.

And Seto had become just like him.

Bakura's black robe gained a life of it's own. The hem's ambiguous edge slunk over the ground, swallowing the earth, swallowing the sky. He could see his white teeth flashing and that cat-like gleam returning to his eyes.

"Poor little man. It would better if I drug you back now with me to the shadows. It would be a waste to let you back into the light where you don't belong."

Seto recoiled back, the squirming, stabbing feeling he had a habit to avoid curling up with the shadows, strangling him, cutting through him.

"No," the shadows weren't stopping. His Kisara had vanished, so had the cemetery. "No, you can't do this. You don't have the power! You're just some Ghost of Christmas!"

"And I don't give a damn about Christmas." growled the teeth.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. His limbs were being caught up in the darkness. The more he struggled, the tighter they pulled. Bakura was laughing again.

Because Seto Kaiba...

Was terrified.


	6. A Snow White Dawn

**I'm so sorry for how late this update is! I went to visit my dad for a week and didn't realize he didn't have any internet. He lives up in the mountains of Coos Bay, Oregon, you see, really secluded. I couldn't even really call anyone. . But here it is! The ending! Please forgive me.**

**And thank you guys so much for telling me what you think and hanging out with me!**

**Merry Christmas!**

Chapter Six: A Snow White Dawn

There came a painful thump in the darkness and Seto found his hands, which were once pressing against the constricting darkness, pressed against the satin cloth of his sheets. Through them he could just make out the sunlight from his bedroom and a distinct chill that told him his window had been left open.

Heart thudding, face flushed, he untied himself out of his sheets and blankets to stare with childlike wonder at the white winter sunlight pouring into his room. Besides him, the digital clock said seven thirty-three. He had slept in. Some habitual part of his mind told him he was late for work, but he ignored it as he pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the open window, skin bursting with goose bumps. Outside the world glowed with white icing. He had his hands on the window sides for a full few minutes before he realized the painful smile that had broken across his face and closed the window.

"Look at me," he muttered, "you'd think I'd burst out singing like some corny Disney rerun."

But no, that couldn't be the case. He was Kaiba, Seto Kaiba, he was late for work.

And for the first time that he could remember in a long time, he didn't care.

Tearing out the first thing he saw in his closet that wasn't a suit or garishly mismatched, he changed, brushed his teeth with a foaming fervor, and strode out into the hall where he ran into his brother, who stopped rubbing his eyes to stare.

"Seto? What are you doing here?"

"Call up a car."

"What?"

"Scratch that, I'll drive myself. You coming?"

"Coming?" Mokuba blinked hard. "Nuh uh, I've spent enough time in the mothership. I got plans with Kristy."

Seto flinched. Kristy. That had been the name in his dream thing too. Had it been a dream? Well, there was one way to tell.

"Why didn't you tell me you were thinking of proposing to her today?"

Mokuba flinched back so hard, he nearly crashed into the doorway, eyes wide. In that instant the past ten years vanished and he was his ten year old little brother caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The next minute he was eighteen again, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Who told you?"

Seto smirked. "Call her up for dinner first. Honestly, thinking you can get a girl to marry you without even introducing her to your brother, I'm hurt. What's her favorite food? Pass it along to the kitchen, we'll have that tonight." he walked past him, inwardly pleased at the flabbergasted look on his brother's face. "Oh, and we'll be needing a tree. If you're not coming with me, do you think Kristy would mind helping you get the house decked out for tonight?"

"Decked out?" asked Mokuba, as though about to faint.

"You know, tinsel, holly, that sparkly crap that makes a mess on the floor—the usual Christmas stuff."

"No. Not at all. She's been wanting to see where I live for a while now."

Seto was half-way down the stairs, calculating in his head what he would do first, when Mokuba caught up to him.

"Wait!"

Seto turned expectantly. His brother wore a strange look on his face, as though he had just see Big Foot walk through his front door. On meeting Seto's eye, his awestruck surprise increased.

"Wh—what happened?"

Seto shrugged, putting a hand on the railing. He didn't move, as his brother didn't seem to be finished yet. He lifted a finger to his chin, dark eyes confused.

"You're not going to work...are you?"

Seto just smiled, said, "Tell the kitchen to have dinner ready by five, sharp. I'll see you then," and continued down the steps. In the mud room he stared at the knob that, just the night before, had twisted into the garish face of his step father as he threw on his usual trench coat and a scarf. He almost forgot to put on his boots in his rush to the door. His heart pounded in an excitement that he hadn't felt since the last time he had dueled with Yugi. The kid always had a way of bringing out the best of him. He came up with strategies and thought in ways he had never even dreamed of until faced with the challenge Yugi always presented to him. Some of his greatest inspirations came from his desire to compete against the boy, and yet Yugi had never held his victories over Kaiba's head. Rather, he had respected him, seen him as a friend. How had he ignored him so blatantly over these years? Sure he hadn't trusted him, sure he had thought his friendship meaningless, but how could he have been so blind? Hadn't he seen the ferocity of Yugi's loyalty to his other friends? Seen the power it lent him?

Seto slid into his favorite, sleek silver-blue Porsche and slid out of the garage, hands shaking. He would see to Yugi, but there was someone else who needed him first.

And it was with that person in mind that he found himself in a neighborhood he never would have before caught dead in. It was the section of the city dedicated to the projects, white trash, and the general population of drug dealers and gang bangers in ever sense of the stereotype. It was also where 35th Martin St. was.

It didn't take him long to find him. The street ended in a culvasac of sorts and wasn't very long. He knew the pile of dirty jeans and ratty blond hair the moment he saw them. Swerving besides the curve, he left the engine running and threw himself out. Still, seeing the dog right as he said he would be sent a shock through his system once more. What was it exactly that he had experienced last night?

"Oy! Wheeler!" When the body didn't respond, he dropped down to his knees in the dirty, black snow besides him. "Get off the ground, mutt." When Joey still didn't respond, a spike of fear ran through his heart and he reached out for his neck, which felt like ice to the touch. How long had the kid been out here? Had he been out here all night?

Before he even felt the first beat of his hear, Seto had Joey scooped up into his arms and was sliding him into the passenger side of his car. A shady, seedy looking man in a bright orange beanie watched from an alleyway across with the remains of a cigarette in his fingers. Seto only had to take a glance at him for his ire to rise to a broiling fury.

"You there!" he shouted, making the man jump. "How long have you been there? Have you just staring at this guy all morning?"

The man muttered something that sounded like, "I hadda jump." Before Seto decided he had more important things on hand and that he could run the tramp over later. He'd have to take Joey to the hospital himself. No saying when an ambulance would be able to get here, and traffic would be minimal on Christmas morning.

So, twisting on the heat to full blast, ignoring the film of sweat that beaded on his forehead, Seto stepped on the gas and wheeled out of there. Besides him, Joey's head flopped lifelessly to the side, his lips an awful shade of grey-blue. Two beautiful black eyes were already half-way formed and Seto could make out a dried line of blood on the other side of his face and matted in his blond hair. The kid looked worse for wear, that's for sure.

"Don't you dare die on me, mutt. I still got a score to settle with you for dropping me on my face."

As well as a debt that Seto had every intention of paying, even if the trash didn't remember.

The nurses did plenty of staring when he stumbled in with a grown man in his arms. It only took them a second to snap out of it before they were rushing about for a stretcher and a doctor. Seto explained the situation, lowering Wheeler onto the bed they brought to him, and demanding they take ever care to make sure he lived. He himself would be paying the bill, so they had no need to worry about the expense. Reassuring him that Joey would be in the best of hands, all the while packing him within heated blankets and putting a breathing mask to his face, the nurses asked him to sign some papers and carted him away. Once he had the papers filled out, Seto turned on his heel and almost ran to his car. Bringing Joey to the ER, possibly saving his life, brought a thrill to him he couldn't understand, especially giving the fact it mixed in horribly with the worry that he had been too late anyways.

Next stop was the Domino Psychiatric Hospital. On his way he popped in his bluetooth and dialed up Mr. Whitaker to tell him to take the day off. The prototype could wait till Monday, even the end of the week, if he had to. The man was, needless to say, speechless with surprise, but very grateful. When Seto hung up, he already had plans set in place to figure out a way to find his wife's medical information, privacy laws be damn. Mr. Whitaker may have to wait on the crappy medical system of Domino for his wife's life, but Seto had no such limitations. Money was a beautiful thing. Strangest thing was, he never realized it until now. What was he doing with the billions of dollars he had anyways? Mokuba and him should go to Hawaii, or Tahiti next week. Hell, why not Russia? He had always wondered about that place himself.

When he stepped through the glass doors of Domino Psychiatric Hospital, all personnel within sight froze. Even a helpful burst of winter air added to the drama as it set his gravity-defying trench-coat into many much furies. He was sure the smirk on his face didn't help.

"I'm here to see Yugi Motou."

The secretary or whatever she was fumbled pointlessly with the papers in front of her. Her colleagues behind her did plenty of piteous staring. They didn't have to know Seto Kaiba personally to feel the brunt of his intimidating air.

"I'm sorry, but you will need signed consent from his guardian."

Seto scowled. "He's twenty-four years old, I highly doubt a grown man needs a guardian."

This flustered the poor girl even more. "I'm sorry, it's with the case of his condition-"

"He has no condition."

"I don't believe that's up to you to decide."

"Then let me talk to his doctor, where is he?"

"He's out for the day, it's is Christm-"

"I don't give a damn if it's his freaking wedding day, get me in contact with him, now, or I'll buy out this place and have you all fired."

Her face paled and the corner of her mouth twitched, as though she weren't sure whether to laugh or be angry. "Who exactly are you, sir?"

"Seto Kaiba."

Her eyes popped. "_The_ Seto Kaiba?"

"Did I stutter?"

Five minutes later he had a phone in his hand and a very flustered psychiatrist on the other end. He learned from him that they hadn't been able to verify any of the symptoms that Mrs. Motou had turned him in for, or at least no current symptoms. It was clear that, whatever Yugi had, he had gotten over it or learned to deal with it in his teenage years. However, the doctor couldn't discharge Yugi without the consent of his mother, who had been the one to admit him in the first place. It all had to do with laws and policies that the psychiatrist had no power in changing, and the man apologized profusely before Kaiba hung up on him with an annoyed snarl.

Stupid fucking politics.

Of course, the nurses couldn't give him Yugi's mother's number (privacy policy), but there was a phone book for a reason. He soon had Mrs. Motou on the phone. He cut right to the chase, and at first she was furious, Seto Kaiba or not. But once he started listing numbers, she settled down nice and easy and they came to an agreement. She would be there in fifteen minutes, and all Yugi had to promise was to not return home. Lovely woman, really.

While he waited for her, terrifying the nurses and dropping the temperature of the hospital out of sheer impatient will, he called up his Human Resources manager for the number of a certain white-haired, blue-eyed, ex-employee of his.

Mrs. Motou was a slight, dark haired woman, who came in with as much dignity as a woman who had essentially just sold of her son could do. The nurses and orderlies that had filed in to watch the drama did plenty of whispering as she signed the necessary papers, accepted the check from Seto, and walked out without a glance back. Seto just snorted to himself. It would be hard to believe for any normal person that people like this woman existed, but Seto knew far better.

Seto didn't have to wait long. Yugi didn't have many personal belongings with him, and when his rival came out, the CEO was horrified to see big, fat tears welling up in the guy's eyes. The overwhelming shock at seeing Seto was the one who saved him did nothing to dissipate them and, if possible, made it worse. Without warning, Yugi ran forward and threw his arms around his much taller rival with a barely contained wail like a child. Changed man or not, Seto was no one's sob rag.

"Stop your sniveling, Motou, you're a grown man!"

"I thought I'd never get out of there! I was just beginning to think I really was insane!"

"I don't care, just get your snotty face off of me so we can go already."

As requested, Yugi let him go, wiping his face furiously with the long sleeves of his purple shirt. It made him look ever more like a child. "Go?"

"Yes. Those mindless drones told you the conditions your mother released you on, right?"

Yugi gave him a weak, watery smile. "You make it sound like she threw me in jail, and yeah, they did. But that doesn't mean you have to help me out or anything, I know you don't, you know, like me much and all."

Seto crossed his arms with a heady scowl, ignoring the nurses who had started fanning their faces in romantic ecstasy. "I just spent fifty thousand dollars on you. Do you think I'm going to let that much money end up in the drain because you die in the street?"

Those big purple eyes almost exploded out of their sockets. Yugi started wheezing something that could have been 'fifty thousand,' but Seto had already gone on his merry way out the door. The not-so-silent squealing of the nurses were getting far beyond his nerves. What had they to be so excited about anyways?

Yugi was there, though, when Seto turned the ignition in his Porsche and had buckled up by the time Seto had pulled out of the parking lot.

"Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but why did you do so much to get me out of there? Not to mention that I'm not entirely sure how you knew I was there in the first place."

Seto felt instant discomfort. That's right. He had just swooped in a saved Yugi after almost five years of ignoring him. And just wait till he found out about his best mutt friend.

He kept his eyes on the road as he answered as honestly as he could.

"Don't ask."

Yugi blinked. "Is it that bad?"

"No, it's just—look, I can't change overnight, so don't make me answer stupid questions like that."

"But I was just wondering why-"

"Because you're not crazy, okay? Now just be grateful, come to Christmas dinner with us, and then go on your merry way. Think of it as repayment for all those times you helped me keep my brother safe and...stuff."

What was the world coming to? Seto Kaiba, multi-billionaire and genius extraordinaire, staying 'stuff'?

Whatever.

When he returned back to the mansion, his secretary had already texted him Kisara's number and what had to be the tallest Christmas tree that he had ever seen inside a house could be seen through the tall, front window. Yugi's mouth hadn't closed since they had pulled in.

"I don't believe this," he kept muttering, probably not even thinking that Kaiba would hear him. "I don't freaking believe this..."

"Get out already, Mutou."

Yugi flinched and eased out of the Porsche as though it were suddenly made of glass. Seto rolled his eyes and pointed out the garage door to Yugi.

"You can take off our coat in there. Mokuba will set you up with a room."

His rival's big eyes were bigger than ever. "My—my what?"

"Room, nimwit. You're mommy's not letting you into the house after all."

"But, Kaiba, you don't have to—I don't have to stay with-"

Seto cut him off with an annoyed slam of his car door. "Just take it before I reconsider. And I'll be expecting you to repay the favor soon anyways. Having the King of Games in the developer department will make the advertisement and resource departments wet themselves with joy." Ignoring how Yugi's flabbergasted look was melting into a far too corny smile for Seto to handle, he snapped out his phone and shooed him with a hand. "Go on. I got a call to make."

Yugi nodded and headed inside, his hands held aloft at his sides as though he walked on air. Though Seto could have laughed, and inwardly he did, it just made the strange, giddy fluttering in his stomach all the greater. Knowing Yugi, he'd still see him as a friend, though, for the first time in his life, Seto had to agree with the Wheeler mutt: who'd want to be his friend?

Shaking the thought off, he carefully dialed the number his secretary had sent him and listened to the ringing on the other end. Each bring was offset by a heavy pound of his heart. What would he say? No, Seto never wondered that. He never had to. He always knew what to say, and she would be no exception.

But it was her answering machine that answered.

"_Hiya! Sorry I missed your call, I'm probably caught up somewhere in my stupid hair or forgot my phone was on vibrate for the millionth time, just leave me your name and number and I'll get back with you!"_

At the beep in his ear, his mind went completely blank. Mouth dry, hand suddenly clammy, he dropped the phone and hung up. For a long moment he just stared at his garage hall, feeling the winter air sinking in through the open garage door. It felt surreal, the cold, and for a moment he couldn't tell the difference between Jack Frost's bite in reality and in the strange vision from the night before.

Then, with a hot flash, he remembered the petal touch of her lips and redialed the number.

This time, when her mailbox intro came to him, his stomach had withered into something akin to a prune, but his diaphragm still worked all right, and he managed to push enough air up for words.

"Kisara, I am calling to invite you over for Christmas dinner. I don't expect you to be there, but it would be...beyond what I..." God damn it, say it man, "what I deserve if you were. Either way, there'll be tapioca on the table. Dinner's at six. Don't worry about dressing nice, it's just Mokuba and I." And, unable to think of any sort of closing to that, and already red in the face with humiliation, he hung up and proceeded to slam his face into the top of his sports car.

Gawd, how many times did he hesitate? Stutter? And was that an 'um' he heard? No, he was just being paranoid. Gozaburo had knocked out any 'um' from him by the time he was ten.

It took him a full fifteen minutes before he felt presentable enough to start walking towards the door, but then he remembered, hand on the door, that he hadn't even bothered to buy anyone, let alone Mokuba, Christmas presents. Even the worst of Scrooge's had Christmas presents, right? Coal, even. Damnit, how could he have forgotten about the whole point!

Cursing loudly, he slipped back into the Porsche and zipped away.

He returned three hours later with a grumbling stomach and an armful of wrapped presents to find the inside of his mansion transformed. Pine and holly tinsel wrapped every banister, wreaths on the doors, bells in the corners, and that monster of a tree glittering like a god unto its own in the window.

On finding himself gawking, he snapped his jaw closed with a click. Where were those three?

"Oh, hey Kaiba."

Walking towards him, with a Santa hat awkwardly squashed over his crazy hair, came Yugi. Seto couldn't understand how the guy couldn't look as awkward as Seto himself felt. Hadn't the kid been a shy, anti-social geek?

"Do you need any help with those?"

"I can handle it," Seto said, adjusting his hands on one of the gifts. "Where's Mokuba?"

His rival's face cracked in a smile no one would have expected his face to be capable of. "Oh, they're just putting up some last minute decorations in some hall back there. Something with white berries."

Delicious smells filled the house to the brim and Seto felt his stomach grumble. He looked at his watch: 5:23.

"Dinner should be soon." He hefted up a box he thought he could feel slipping. "Could you-"

The box dropped. Yugi shot forward and caught it by the tips of his fingers, unsettling his Santa hat.

"Go fetch them? Yeah, and do you want these under the tree?"

"Yes."

Despite all the awkwardness, the lung crushing warmth Seto had been struggling with since that morning had expanded to fill the whole house and, for once, Seto found himself not wanting to leave his home ever again. The warmth wrapped up the air in peace and gave the impression that if one were to curl up in the middle of the walkway on the carpet, they'd be able to fall asleep without a problem.

Dinner came with much pomp and circumstance. Mokuba (red faced and with his lips a bit swollen), properly introduced Kristy, who was all aflutter and shy before his big brother's intimidating air. Though Yugi talked more with Mokuba, the three of them made enough noise to make up for Seto's quiet awkwardness, though he interjected here and there with his usual sarcastic remarks, although they didn't sound as sharp as they should have been, even to Seto. Seto's and Mokuba's personal guard joined them for dinner, and my what a spread it was. It even impressed the snobbish, rich Kaiba's. Eyeing the ham and plates of five star vegetables, Seto was reminded of the cornucopias about Joey as he sat reading his Catwoman comics and couldn't help but smile. He found the muscles in the back of his head hurting before long, though, as his brother and Yugi bantered back and forth with jokes, laced with the bell-like laughter of Mokuba's girlfriend.

Half-way through, the bell rang and Seto got up to answer it.

At the door, a ragged, far-too pale and bruised lost puppy stood, tail between it's legs.

Seto didn't know who was more surprised. Him, or Wheeler.

Joey was the first to speak.

"Look, they told me you took me to the hospital."

"What about it?" Seto growled.

What part of Joey's face wasn't purple, blue, or bandaged flushed red with fury. "Look, I don't need your charity. Tell me how much I owe you for-" he broke off in a dry, hacking cough. Seto frowned.

"How long were you out there?"

"Huh?"

"For once in your life, turn on your brain and answer the damn question: how long were you laying in the street like that?"

Joey blinked blearily. "I don't know, maybe a few hours."

Seto sighed heavily, hand to his brow. "Go back to the hospital, mutt."

"Joey? Is that you?"

Being filthy rich, Seto's front door was rather large, so it didn't take much for Yugi to peer around Kaiba and see his black and blue, ratty clothed friend on the door step. His loud gasp was to be expected.

"Oh my—gawd, Joey, what happened?"

But Joey's swollen eyes had widened to almost normal width and his legs had started to shake.

"Y-Yug?"

Yugi had slipped past Seto and was fluttering about Joey like a mother hen. "What are you doing out here! You should be in the hospital—you look like you got hit by a train! How are you even walking?"

"Yug..."

"And what are you doing here? Did Kaiba invite you too? Aw, gawd, Joey, you're burning up."

"Yug, shut up."

"What?"

"I said shut the hell up."

Yugi and Seto stared. But before either of them could think of what to say, Joey had thrown himself around Yugi's neck, which was no small matter, seeing as Joey was almost twice the little guy's size. Seto felt his neck grow hot and, dare he say, his eyes prickle as Joey continued standing there, clinging to Yugi as though afraid to let go. Feeling as though he might throw up (or maybe do something really unmanly and humiliating), Seto turned around.

"There's food on the table when you're done with your little scene, mutt. If you keep quiet I won't kick your sorry ass back to where I left it."

Joey did not answer, however, and Seto was left to return to the dining room.

No sooner had Yugi and Joey come in, Joey shuffling awkwardly and squinting out at everything through his black eyes, when the doorbell rang yet again. Mokuba was too busy gawking over his friend, Joey, while exclaiming his delight to hear and Seto was able to slip past to the door.

What he found on his doorstep the second time made all blood flow in his body come to a complete halt.

In shades of blue, with skin as white as the snow behind her, she had her hands tucked deep within her coat and her eyes to her feet. Even on the cold whiff of air, and with the thick essence of the feast behind him, Seto could still pick out her scent.

"Um," she tucked some of her silver hair behind her ear. "I heard you had, um...tapioca?"

And all at once his blood went racing, white hot, expanding a balloon within him.

"I already told ya, I got in a fight with a gang boss and five of his goons. They all had tasers, whole nine yards." said Joey's loud voice from behind him.

"How'd you get this though?" asked Yugi.

"Oh, this? They threw me into a shark tank when I proved too much for them."

Yugi and Kristy laughed as Mokuba exclaimed, "Now really!"

Kisara was still standing on his wide welcome mat, an angelic image of bundled up furs and pink scarf.

Seto finally breathed.

"Yeah. I got tapioca, figgy pudding, any Christmasy pudding you can think of."

The shy, sweet little grin she gave him made him beam.

"For your sake, it better be good."

And whatever happens after that is details. Seto stopped working as much, Mokuba and Kristy waited a year or so before finally getting married, Yugi became, not only a world-renowned gamist, but the personal game-tester of Kaiba corp, and Kisara eventually forgave Seto for being an emotionless asshole. Joey and Yugi had weekly James Bond nights where they ate superfluous amounts of popcorn and made sure to invite Kaiba along, still unable to believe that the workaholic, people-hating CEO would actually come without the coercion of Mokuba. The two boys even swore to hearing Seto laugh once without a drop of evil overlord intention. Mrs. Whitaker made a full recovery, thanks to Seto funding a personal search for a matching heart donor, and the Kaiba manor was no longer as quiet as a place as it use to be.

And Seto never had to deal with another ghost in his room again, Christmas or otherwise.


End file.
